


Inertia Creeps

by un-shit-yourself (fenix_down)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:49:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4877473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenix_down/pseuds/un-shit-yourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You can,” Hawke said, “You will.” He traced a line across Anders’ hipbone, almost reverently. “You’ll let me touch you the way I want. You’ll beg and make those fucking delicious noises until it’s too much, and then you’re going to come for me, screaming so loud you won’t be able to say a bloody thing tomorrow.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inertia Creeps

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song of the same name by Massive Attack, you can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w3mn7EC-skg) (NSFW video), the song is sexy as fuck so I fully recommend it. You may also visit [tumblr](http://un-shit-yourself.tumblr.com) where you can see me endlessly reblog pics of DA men and post ridiculous things from my cozy pile of garbage.

There was always a certain amount of banter and bragging involved with Wicked Grace night. When two tipsy, lascivious, and competitive rogues were included in the game, it was guaranteed that none of the discussions during the evening would be appropriate. _Neither would the behavior_ , Anders thought, as he removed Isabela’s hand from his thigh for the third time.

“Oh, you’re just no fun anymore,” she said, pouting at him and surreptitiously sliding a card from her belt into her hand.

“I’ve become rather tragic, it’s true,” Anders admitted, sighing dramatically.

“Nonsense, he’s plenty of fun, and I saw that,” Hawke said from his left, not looking up from his cards.

“The groping, or the cheating?” Isabela asked.

“Yes.”

Varric shook his head. “Losing your touch, Rivaini.”

She smirked wickedly, flicking the offending card over her shoulder. “I assure you, I still get frequent compliments on my _touch_.”

“Yeah, if only it didn’t leave a rash afterwards,” Varric retorted, and smoothly dodged the empty mug thrown vaguely towards his head. Hawke shook his head, dismayed.

“Don’t get many compliments on your accuracy, do you?” he teased.

“Plenty of those too, love.” She propped her elbow on Anders’ shoulder, leaning over him to both leer at Hawke and thrust her cleavage into Anders’ inescapable view. “The things I could teach you about precision would make you a _true_ Champion.” She wiggled her pointer finger at Hawke suggestively. “And it’d let you give our lovely, boring healer here the fun he desperately needs, _over_ and _over_ again.” 

Anders glared at her as if to say _That’s the last time I give you any free salves from the clinic._ She just smiled at him and winked, the harpy.

Meanwhile, Hawke made a show of looking scandalized, putting a hand over his chest and huffing in indignation. “Honestly, assuming I lack the skills to even do such a thing on my own? It’s insulting.” He also leaned over Anders, and despite the lack of ample bosom, the view down his tunic was still fantastic. “Besides, why go for _quantity_ when you can have _quality_?”

“Hah! You want quality? I’ll give him all _sorts_ of quality. I could have him screaming in under a minute.”

“Brag all you want about your speedy, single little finger. Far more impressive to see how long I can draw out a scream with just two.” Hawke held up his forefinger and thumb, bent towards each other a few inches apart. Anders’ mind immediately and helpfully brought up every way those fingers could ruin him. “ _That’s_ quality.”

Isabela raised an eyebrow and made a noise of interest, making no comment on the way Anders squirmed in his chair. “Maker’s breath, it’s like I’m not even here,” The mage muttered, blushing and steadfastly refusing to look at Hawke’s intriguing fingers, trying desperately not to think about how they curved elegantly around the grips of his daggers.

“If only we were so blessed,” Fenris grumbled, looking at his empty mug like it personally offended him by not being there to offer its support.

“Can we get on with the game, please?” Sebastian asked, looking even more flustered than Anders.

“Alright kids, stop teasing Blondie, he looks like he’s about to combust,” Varric scolded, and turned to Merrill at his left, who was looking thoughtfully at Hawke’s fingers with her chin propped on her hands.

“But what can you draw? You can’t even hold a quill with your fingers that far apart,” she said, confused. 

Anders and Fenris made frustrated noises for entirely different reasons. Isabela laughed and patted Merrill on the head fondly. “Never change, Kitten, you’re a treasure.”

Varric did his best to bring the game back to order. Hawke leaned back nonchalantly and reached for his mug while his other hand, curled behind the chair, briefly stroked along the edge of Anders’ collar and teased the hair at the back of his neck. The undignified whimper that Anders released made him chuckle.

After such excitement, it was inevitable that Anders would find himself allowing Hawke to wrap an arm around his waist, loop his wicked fingers around his belt, and lead him ( _willingly, oh yes, very willingly_ ) back to Hightown at a moderate pace. He was mildly annoyed that Hawke pulled him into the bedroom and ordered him to strip without so much as a kiss, but Anders was far too aroused to complain, and disrobed as quickly as humanly possible without damaging his clothing.

Hawke kept that evil smirk the entire time, watching Anders appreciatively as he removed his gloves. “Eager?” he asked, like he didn’t sense the mage’s desperation.

“Maker, I thought I was going to die listening to you two go on like that,” Anders replied, finally stripping out of his underclothes. He looked at Hawke coyly, sitting on the bed and removing the tie from his hair, the strands falling around his face. “You going to show me all your dirty tricks now?”

“Just one of them,” Hawke replied, and Anders was pleased to hear the sharp edge to his voice, despite the teasing pace he set with removing the little armor he was wearing. “Lie back and put your hands over your head.”

Anders obeyed, pulling a pillow under his head and stretching out long across Hawke’s bed, lean body taut with one knee bent, his cock already hard against his thigh. He writhed a little on the sheets, knowing Hawke was still watching him, enjoying the feel of cool silk against his skin. 

He heard Hawke’s growl and smiled, turning to watch as the other man pulled his tunic over his head and stalked to the bed in just his trousers. “Eager?” Anders joked, and then gasped as Hawke smoothly straddled him, sitting on his legs.

“Cheeky,” Hawke muttered. Anders reached for him and Hawke grabbed his wrists, forcing them back over his head, grinning at the whine that came from Anders. “You going to be good?” he asked, rubbing his thumb across Anders’ palm, and that simple touch was doing far more to add to his eagerness than it should have.

“Going to spank me if I won’t?” Anders asked hopefully.

“Not this time,” Hawke responded. He stared down at Anders darkly, roving his eyes down the mage’s body until Anders squirmed impatiently.

“So… what, then?”

“If you don’t behave, I’ll stop touching you,” Hawke said simply. He let go of the other man’s wrists and leaned back, the weight not yet uncomfortable across Anders’ legs. “And you won’t want that,” he added, voice sultry and causing a shiver to ripple through Anders’ skin.

“So, touch me.” Anders wasn’t above begging, but it was amazing how close he already was to that point, and Hawke hadn’t even done anything yet except be an infuriating tease.

Hawke smirked and held up his finger and thumb, raising an eyebrow. Anders was suddenly lightheaded with anticipation, and the only answer he could give was to nod emphatically. “Keep your hands over your head and your hips on the bed,” he ordered, pulling a vial from his pocket.

“Is that all? Not very har-mmph!” His intentions towards goading Hawke turned into a bitten-back moan when Hawke’s fingers touched his cock, the base of his shaft held between Hawke’s fingers with not-quite-firm-enough pressure. His other hand tipped the vial, letting oil trickle across the head and down to his fingers, leaving Anders panting at the sight.

Hawke casually set the oil aside, and gave that wickedly beautiful smirk again. “Looks pretty hard to me,” he said, and before Anders could roll his eyes at the terrible joke, his fingers _moved_ and Anders forgot everything he’d ever learned except for Hawke’s name.

That not-quite-enough pressure held as Hawke slowly dragged his thumb and forefinger up the shaft of his cock, sliding slick and hot against his skin, Anders reduced to gasping breaths as they moved higher. Hawke’s thumb traced just barely across his slit in tandem with his forefinger brushing against the head, and then those evil fingers dragged back down, smearing oil down the hot length of him, and when they finally reached the base Anders’ breath let out in a shaky moan, the trembling in his legs stilled with Hawke’s weight over them.

“Good,” Hawke purred, and then did it again, just as agonizingly slowly. And again, with Anders feeling increasingly dizzy and unable to catch his breath.

When Anders realized that Hawke had no intention of hurrying the torturous speed of his fingers, he almost pulled out his hair in frustration before remembering Hawke’s orders. “Hawke, please,” he begged, gripping the sheets above his head and arching his spine, needing something, _anything_.

“Please?” Hawke echoed, relishing Anders’ strained expression. “Please what?”

“I need...” Anders looked at him pleadingly, unable to even finish his thought. Hawke chuckled, and the next pass of his thumb over the slit of Anders’ straining cock caught the drop of precome that threatened to spill, his slickness mixing with the oil, and Anders cried out as his hips thrust up uncontrollably towards those wicked fingers.

Then Hawke withdrew his fingers, sitting on his legs and ignoring his desperate whimpering. “What did I say?”

“Please, don’t stop…” The weight on his thighs prevented the mage from writhing with the urgency that thrummed through his skin.

“Anders.” Hawke’s voice was dark and dangerous, and so steady, as if he could stay here all night just touching him to the point of insanity. “What did I say?”

“I can’t help it, it’s too much, I can’t...” Anders panted, tossing his head against the pillow in desperation from the deliriously slow build of pleasure. “I can’t…

“You can,” Hawke said, “You will.” He traced a line across Anders’ hipbone, almost reverently. “You’ll let me touch you the way I want. You’ll beg and make those fucking delicious noises until it’s too much, and then you’re going to come for me, screaming so loud you won’t be able to say a bloody thing tomorrow.”

“Maker, _yes_ ,” Anders moaned. His arms were beginning to ache with tension, but his fingers still gripped the sheets tighter at the forceful tone in Hawke’s voice.

Hawke smirked, grabbing his hip with his other hand and holding him down with his weight. “Is this better?”

“Nnngh,” Anders managed, bottom lip between his teeth to try ground himself and regain some sense of control, which failed spectacularly as Hawke’s hand went back to his cock and he resumed his patient, maddening touching.

“So hot and wet for me. You feel fucking good, love,” Hawke praised, and a new wave of urgency sent shivers down his spine and left him breathless. The weight on Anders’ hip prevented him from thrusting up with each stroke of Hawke’s fingers, and without the rogue kneeling on his legs he could feel his thighs shuddering and his toes curling, the growing ache in his muscles overpowered by the burning waves of pleasure Hawke was sending through his body. 

Hawke kept talking almost soothingly through it; voice murmuring approval and terrible, filthy things that only increased Anders’ desperation as he watched his fingers work with fascination. “Love how hard your cock is. I can just feel you throbbing with it,” he groaned, and Anders whimpered in response, tossing his head again, finally crying out as Hawke’s thumb just barely traced over the head of his cock to spread more wetness across his flushed skin.

It felt like hours had passed with Anders held in this trembling limbo, unable to come with just the slow glide of Hawke’s fingers but forced into gasping breaths as it built higher and higher inside of him, flaring through his very core and leaving every muscle in his legs and arms taut. Hawke’s eyes were on his hand and Anders’ cock, flushed and weeping, dripping wetness across his fingers, and when he licked his lips Anders moaned raggedly.

“Maker, I want you. Want to taste you so badly, love, want to know how hot you’d feel on my tongue.”

“Yes, yes, please…” He wanted to scream, just the thought of Hawke’s mouth made him grip the sheets so hard that his fingers threatened to cramp. 

Hawke met his eyes and smirked, but his gaze was fierce, hungry. “I won’t though, I want you to fall apart like this.” He leaned forward, hand still rising and falling deliberately, weight crushing down to pin Anders harder to the bed. “I can still show you… how much I want your cock, what you do to me.” His lips parted inches above Anders’ dick, hot and heavy breaths making Anders writhe, and he flicked his gaze to meet the mage’s eyes as he extended his tongue. Anders couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, wanted to fight to arch up into that wet mouth but _couldn’t_ and it felt he was going to die from longing. A thin trail of saliva fell from Hawke’s tongue on to his cock and he cried out, begging with Hawke’s name and “please” and “fuck” and all other words lost.

His blood burned in his veins, his entire body aching with need and the hot tension wound tight in his groin, each upstroke of Hawke’s fingers on his twitching length wringing gasps and moans rising higher and higher in pitch. He didn’t even notice Hawke’s hand release the bruising grip on his hip until he felt the bed shift and heard the rogue curse as he came up on his knees, rubbing his free hand against his clothed erection, his other hand stuttering only briefly on Anders’ cock. Finally free of the weight, the mage’s hips thrust up as his spine bowed and his legs trembled, grinding into Hawke’s touch but lost in that agonizing, steady rhythm. It was all that existed; Hawke’s hand and his panting breaths locked in sync with Anders’ rolling hips and whimpers.

“ _Yes_ , Anders, fuck,” Hawke groaned, sweat beaded on his brow and thrusting his own hips forward into his palm. 

Anders panted in frustration, voice cracked and strained, so desperately close. “I can’t… please…”

“You can. Let go for me. Do it,” he said, but it was not a command; he _begged_ , and the raw edge in Hawke’s voice finally brought Anders over the brink. His head fell back and his thighs clenched, entire body shaking and tight, and his scream came in waves as he spilled across Hawke’s fingers and his own stomach. 

And Hawke didn’t stop, gripping tighter with his thumb and forefinger and spreading the mess along Anders’ throbbing shaft, still achingly hard and flushed. Anders begged without words, writhing as pleasure spiked through him harder and harder until it was near pain and unbearable, ripping the sheets in his clenched fists and not knowing whether to plead Hawke for more or for mercy.

“That’s it, love, I’ve got you.” Hawke’s eyes met his, impossibly dark at the sight of Anders’ wanton state, his other hand now inside his trousers and working his own cock, but still focused intently on driving Anders to madness. “You’re so good, so beautiful… fuck… _Anders,_ ” he moaned, and finally gripped him fully. The clench of Hawke’s fist alone was enough to make Anders’ legs shudder uncontrollably, voice wrecked and whimpering as his cock spurted and he was coming again, or maybe he was _still_ coming and was never going to stop, shocks rippling through him as he felt the jagged thrust of Hawke’s hips as he followed, groaning loud and long.

Hawke released him once he finally lay boneless against the soaked sheets, and in his near-unconscious state of mind Anders dimly registered him rising and returning with a damp cloth to gently clean them both. He kissed Anders’ forehead and chuckled at the inarticulate noise he received in response.

“S’alright love, you get to relax after that. That was the most scorching thing I’ve ever seen.”

Anders rolled onto the clean side of the bed, sprawling to try and stretch out his cramped limbs. “If you have any other tricks up your sleeve,” he mumbled, “you’ll have to wait at least a week to show me.”

“You’ll see them in due time,” Hawke replied, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed and rubbing his shoulders gently. “And a _week_? That’s just cruel.”

“Mmm, a few days then.”

Soft lips and coarse facial hair brushed against his shoulder. “How about tomorrow?”

“I might be bargained with,” he said, then sighed as Hawke’s mouth moved lower. “You do know how to be persuasive.”

“What can I say, I know my talents; good looks, deft hands, and a silver tongue.” Hot breath trailed down his spine, pausing just above the cleft of his ass to suck and lick a mark into Anders’ skin. “Plenty of tricks I can do with this. Very willing to show you some tonight, assuming I'm persuasive enough…” 

“... _Maker_ , please...”

Hawke’s laugh was muffled against his skin. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.” 

***

The next evening they arrived in Varric’s suite for another night of revelry. Before Isabela could do anything other than wiggle her eyebrows suggestively, Anders sat next to her and leaned over, loudly whispering, “Quality beats quantity.”

Hawke smirked and looked pleased with himself, while Sebastian turned scarlet and Fenris turned green. Varric shoved the deck of cards in Merrill’s direction. “You go ahead and deal, Daisy, I need to find a quill.”

“Oh, for more drawing?” she asked, and Hawke helpfully clapped Sebastian on the back as he choked on his ale.


End file.
